


Swimming Lessons

by cookie_full_of_arsenic



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Or Is It?, Recovering from an abusive relationship, Slow Burn, Swimming, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22620598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookie_full_of_arsenic/pseuds/cookie_full_of_arsenic
Summary: Harley has had enough of The Joker's casual disregard for her emotions and, y'know, whether or not she gets killed. So she stays with Ivy for a while and gradually gets her shit together. Also, she learns to swim.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 31
Kudos: 421





	Swimming Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Just some good old-fashioned, cheesy, Harley/Ivy romance. I really think Harley needs to learn to swim, because that got her into a heap of trouble in Suicide Squad.
> 
> Ivy POV for most of it, Harley POV for the last section. Rated T to be on the safe side, as there is brief violence and mild swears.

“You look like a drowned rat.”

Harley laughed – that loud, unhinged laugh – and Ivy pulled her in, out of the rain. She didn’t bother asking what had happened. Just handed Harley a towel and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, then made some chamomile tea. She set two mugs on the coffee table in the living room, sat on the couch, and waited. There was a lot of love and hate flowing through her xylem. Love for her. Hatred for him. And maybe a little hatred for her, because she kept going back to him. And maybe a little love for him, because he had sent her to Ivy’s door.

When Harley appeared in the living room doorway, Ivy could practically see the steam rising off her shoulders. She’d probably used up all of Ivy’s hot water.

“You can borrow some of my clothes, until yours are dry,” Ivy offered.

“Thanks, but I’m fine like this for now. Your towels are so soft.” She wrapped her arms around herself, maybe a little suggestively. Then she padded across the room to where Ivy sat and knelt before her, more than a little suggestively.

“What the hell, Harley?” Ivy said, in a tired voice, as Harley put her hands on Ivy’s knees and stroked them.

“What? I just want to say thank you, for letting me stay.”

“So buy me a box of candy or something. I don’t want _that_.”

Harley sat back on her heels and snorted. “That’s a lie. And you don’t have to treat me like a kid, OK? I know how this works. You give someone a good time, you get a little kindness in return. There’s nothing wrong with a fair trade.”

“I have zero interest in a fair trade.”

“I know what you’re interested in, and it ain’t gonna happen, okay? It’s nothing personal, I just can’t fall for people who are good to me.”

“Then maybe you’re better off alone.”

Harley barely seemed to notice the ice in Ivy’s voice. She looked down at the floor and muttered, “Yeah … maybe. Can I still stay the night?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

***

Harley slept on the couch. The next morning, they ate breakfast together and Harley told Ivy the full story in between bites of pancake.

“So he drives the car into the lake, and I’m screaming BABY I CAN’T SWIM I CAN’T SWIM but he does it anyway and just leaves me thrashing about in the water. If this guy hadn’t pulled me out, I’d have been a goner. He turned out to be a cop, so I maced him and ran off, but still, I’m grateful. Maybe I should send him some flowers as a thank you.”

Ivy had a lot of thoughts about that story. About the man who left Harley to drown. About sending people the severed genital organs of plants as a way of expressing gratitude. Rather than starting a rant, she asked “How come you never learnt to swim?”

“The swimming pool at my school was pretty gross, so I used to forge my mom’s handwriting and write myself sick notes. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I’m probably too old to learn.”

“I’ll teach you,” said Ivy decisively.

***

“Oh, this one’s _perfect_ ,” Harley exclaimed.

She pushed the changing room curtain aside, revealing herself in a skimpy, red bikini with white polka dots. Ivy didn’t think of herself as a particularly lustful person, but Harley in a two-piece was quite a sight and she felt her sap rising.

“That’s not a swimming bikini, that’s a lounging around by the pool bikini. As soon as you get moving, those strings will break and you’ll be flashing everyone.”

“I can live with that. Or maybe I should just stick to lounging around by the pool.”

Ivy rolled her eyes and thrust a simple, blue one-piece at Harley. She groaned like a petulant teenager and disappeared back inside the changing room.

***

Harley didn’t seem afraid of the water. Not that Ivy was surprised about that – Harley didn’t seem afraid of anything. She was happy to splash about and duck her head under the water (luckily she hadn’t applied her usual heavy makeup) but her swimming skills were non-existent. Ivy would have to go back to basics. Teach her how to tread water and do some kind of graceless but functional doggy paddle. Make sure she could survive in the water, on her own.

***

Harley was a late sleeper, which was a pain in the ass now that she was sleeping on Ivy’s couch. Ivy took to bringing her mugs of strong coffee in the mornings to wake her up. It was strange, how different Harley looked while she was sleeping. When she was awake, she so often used that expressive face as a mask.

Ivy set the mug down on the coffee table and gazed at Harley. She didn’t know what to do with all the love flowing through her. She poured it into swimming lessons and mugs of coffee, and there was still so much left over. Without thinking, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to Harley’s forehead.

It was a ridiculous thing to do, but there was no taking it back. Ivy watched in dismay as Harley’s eyes fluttered open.

“I haven’t been woken up like that since I was a kid.”

Ivy couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that. Even if she had managed to scrape together the words, her voice probably would have betrayed her. Harley was looking at her with the strangest, most naked expression of longing that Ivy had ever seen. Not longing for Ivy, of course. Longing for something else. Something profound and pure and out of reach.

***

Harley learnt to tread water quickly, and how to kick her legs, holding on to the edge of the pool. Floating was more of a challenge, since it involved resisting the urge to thrash about. Ivy took Harley to the pool in the evening, when there was hardly anyone else there, and borrowed a couple of floats.

“Here, cross your arms across that, like you’re cuddling a teddy bear or something. Now lie back.”

“It’s not working.”

“You have to lift your butt up.”

“You lift _your_ butt up.”

“Fine. Look at me. See how easy it is?”

Ivy floated effortlessly on her back. Harley made a disgruntled noise, but within a minute, she was floating on her back with the float clutched in her arms. The girl had a competitive streak, and Ivy was learning to use it to her advantage.

They floated peacefully alongside each other for a while. The pool had a glass roof and they could see a surprising number of stars through it.

“Ivy,”

“Mm?”

“How come you’re so good to me?”

“You want me to be bad to you?”

“No. I just don’t understand it. I know you like me, and you know I like people who treat me like crap. You’re a good-looking girl. If you treated me like crap, I’d probably fall ass over teakettle for you.”

“So I should be mean to you to get what I want? That’s not what love is.”

Ivy had a moment of panic as she realised she had used the word _love_. But awkward silences were never a problem with Harley, because silences in general were never a problem.

“I dunno why people keep talking about love like it’s something good. Love isn’t good or bad, it’s a freakin’ force of nature. You oughta know that, Red. You’re the nature expert here.”

“You’re a drama queen, Harley. _Love is a force of nature._ Sounds like every cheesy romcom ever made.”

Secretly, though, it made more than a little sense to Ivy. Love was something elemental, like fire, or water. And like water, you could use it to drown people, or teach them to swim.

***

They had taken to watching TV together in the evenings. Halfway through _The Late Late Show_ , James Corden’s face blurred and distorted, and was replaced by a thinner, paler face with a shock of acid green hair and a red smear of a mouth. The effect on Harley was instantaneous. She lurched forward, upending the bowl of popcorn in her lap, and gripped the edge of the couch.

“Haaaaarleeeey…” The Joker crooned. “I know you’re out there somewhere, baby. You can’t hide from me. Listen, I’m sorry about how we left things. Whaddya say to a nice, romantic dinner to patch things up? Doesn’t that sound good, hm? Call me.”

Joker’s face flickered and disappeared, and Ivy shot Harley a cautious glance. She was still staring at the TV, lips slightly parted.

“Has he been calling you?” Ivy asked, putting a hand on Harley’s shoulder in an attempt to snap her out of whatever stupor she was in. Instead of answering, Harley pulled out her phone and showed Ivy the twenty-eight missed calls.

***

Slowly, Ivy took her hands away from Harley’s belly. She didn’t sink. Just carried on kicking her legs and sweeping her arms forward clumsily but effectively. Harley was swimming. Swimming away from Ivy.

***

Harley had an appointment with a realtor. And that was a good thing. It didn’t _feel_ good, but Ivy knew that it was, regardless of how it felt. She’d gone for a walk, hoping to shake off her bad mood before Harley noticed it, but Gotham wasn’t the cheeriest place to walk, especially at night. The air was cold, and the threat of frost lingered on the breeze, forcing Ivy to pull her jacket tighter around her. She walked along the river, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the pollutants in it.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

The man was tall, and had a henchman kind of build. Broad shoulders, enormous chest, little legs that made him look like he might tip over. He blocked Ivy’s path, demanding an answer, so ignoring him wasn’t an option. She decided to play dumb instead. It wasn’t her go-to move, but it was simple, and she was feeling lazy.

“Excuse me? I don’t have a girlfriend, I’m single.”

“Your _gal pal_ ,” the henchman pressed, smiling maliciously. “Goes by the name Harley Quinn.”

“Harley? I’ve met her once or twice, but I wouldn’t call us gal pals.”

The henchman growled – actually _growled_. He probably thought it made him sound like some dangerous animal, but it just made him sound like a dumbass.

“We know she’s been hiding out with you,” he fumed. “Just give her up, and we’ll leave you alone.”

“We?”

In answer to this question, another man slipped out of the shadows and stood beside his buddy. He had slick, oily-looking hair. Actually, all of him was slick and oily-looking, from his shiny forehead down to his shiny brass knuckles. The idea of throwing these two dogs a scrap of information about Harley might have been a sensible idea, but it never crossed her mind. She clenched her fists. She wasn’t in the mood, and was keen to get this crap over with.

***

She got a few decent punches in (the big one had a surprisingly soft stomach) but the oily one’s brass knuckles got the better of her. She was unconscious by the time they threw her in the river, so she never heard the crack of a baseball bat against two skulls. She never heard the splash as Harley cannonballed into the freezing water like the reckless nutcase she was.

***

“You look like a drowned rat.”

Ivy stared up at Harley, trying to focus her blurry vision. Her hair looked wet and dirty and her make-up had run so badly, it looked like her face was melting. She thought, fleetingly, of the joker’s vat of acid. All things considered, there were worse things than polluted river water.

“So do you.”

“That’s because I was saving your sorry ass.”

Ivy cautiously lifted her head up, then shifted into a sitting position. She was on a couch, in a dingy, dimly-lit room that she didn’t recognise. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe. This place was my back-up plan, in case you wouldn’t let me stay with you.”

Ivy nodded, then regretted it. Her head ached ferociously, and the pain must have shown on her face because Harley was looking worried.

“I’m so sorry, Red,” she said, and her lower lip trembled. “This is all my fault.”

“No, this is all _his_ fault.”

“Bastard. Can’t believe I ever dated the guy.”

Ivy smiled at the look of disgust on Harley’s face.

***

Apparently, open wounds and polluted rivers didn’t mix well, because Ivy got sick as a dog. Harley took care of her, bringing her soup and magazines to read and shit like that. One evening, Harley attempted homemade minestrone, and as she was chopping carrots she realised something. Something that surprised her so much, she damn-near chopped one of her fingers off.

She stirred the soup, and marvelled at it. It felt familiar, of course, but also very, very different. With Joker, it had been a kind of hunger. A desperate need for anything he would give her. With Ivy, she felt full to the brim with… with… Yep. There was no mistaking it.

She ladled soup into a bowl and put the bowl on a tray. She thought of putting a rose on the tray, then remembered that Ivy hated to see flowers cut for no reason. Besides, there was no way of pretending that minestrone soup was a sexy food.

Ivy propped herself up in bed when Harley brought the soup in. Her smile struck a match in Harley’s nervous system, and she put the soup down quickly on the bedside table because her hands had begun to shake.

She wanted Ivy more than she could have imagined possible. But more importantly, she needed her to know.

Harley took one of Ivy’s hands and kissed her palm. It was warm. Ivy was still feverish, and when Harley looked up at her, there was a little frown of confusion on her face.

A kiss on the unbelievable softness of her wrist.

Another in the crook of her elbow

One on her bicep. Ivy’s frown had turned into something fragile.

A kiss on the curve of her shoulder.

A kiss on her neck.

By the time she kissed Ivy’s cheek, it was wet and salty with tears. Then Ivy kissed her lips, and Harley did her very best not to drown.


End file.
